Encounter at the Alley
by Miss Morgan
Summary: Faith and Spike become acquainted while Faith is out patroling.


At the sight of the blonde girl walking down the dark alley, Spike did what any man would have done. He followed her. However, once he'd pinned her against the wall and raised his fangs to her neck, it was quite obvious he had different intentions than any other man would have.  
  
"We, are going to have us a spot of dinner tonight," he whispered to the girl, his English accent coming out in a soothing tone. He had barely gotten the word tonight out when something struck him in the back of the head, and he fell to the ground. "I don't think so," a feminine voice commanded as the rock struck him, before shouting to the girl, "Run! Get out of here." The blonde ran, fleeing for her life.  
  
Spike jumped up quickly from the ground, eager to lay eyes on this cost him his pint of blood. He had known even before the woman began to speak that it wasn't Buffy by the smell of the woman, something that he couldn't decide if he was happy about, or terribly depressed. She was always sneaking up on him, taunting him, and pulling his chain. He turned around, his eyes falling on a thin, brunette woman.  
  
She was a bit scantily clad in the dress department, with her brown halter- top blending in perfectly with her hair. Her eyes were also brown, and they seemed to seer through Spike, as if she already knew exactly who he was and everything about him. Her pants were made out of leather, like his pants, but instead of being black, they were pink, accentuating the pink trim on her halter-top.  
  
"Ay, who is this dodgy piece of Happy Meal?" He muttered to himself, noticing the stake in her hand. "Buffy's got herself a new protégé? Blimey."  
  
"I'm Faith," the woman answered, promptly kicking upwards, sending him flying. Spike winched, picking himself up from the ground.  
  
"So that's the way you like it, luv? Fancy a bit of rough and tumble, I take it?" He grabbed onto Faith, slamming his fist into her stomach. Relying on his lightning-quick vampire reflexes, he dodged her punch. She fired another hit, kneeing him in the groin.  
  
"I never say no to a fight," she told him, the smile on her face letting him know that she was enjoying every bit of the beating. She stepped back, eyeing him with a satisfied glance. "Won't B be pleased when she hears I nagged Spike?"  
  
"Whut?" Spike asked, thoroughly confused. This certainly wasn't the sort of attitude he'd expected from anyone who was Buffy's mate. Her chums were professional, puny, and completely boring. He would have never expected one of her little cohorts to be like this girl, so at ease amongst danger and drenched in sarcasm and cockiness.  
  
"She told me to look out for you," Faith continued, brandishing the point of her stake and running her finger along the edge of the wood tauntingly. "Said you might give me a fight. But from what I've seen so far, you look like you're nothing more than a pussycat."  
  
"Sod off," Spike growled at her taunting motions, grabbing the stake from her hands and snapping it in two.  
  
"Testy one, aren't we?" She grinned, pulling out a knife from the insides of her high black-heeled boots. "But that's okay, we're 5-and-5. I could always just decapitate you. More fun for me, anyhow."  
  
"Idn't that decent," Spike chortled, his eyes fixed on Faith. "Whut are you? Buffy's little helper?"  
  
"I'm not anyone's helper," Faith responded bluntly. "I'm the Slayer."  
  
"The Slayer, ay?" Spike repeated, an idea forming in his mind. "Do a trick for me, Slayer...show me how you perform."  
  
Faith's eyebrows rose promptly, and she moved to slam Spike into the wall. He grabbed her arm, pulling her close, and planted his lips onto hers, his tongue probing inside of her mouth.  
  
She gasped, feeling as though she might explode. She could always kill him later, right? Her hands grasped his peroxide hair, pulling him down to the ground as she continued with their snog. She swung herself on top of him with the ease of a gymnast, sliding the knife along his shirtfront, cutting it in half. As she pulled off the pieces and tossed them into the darkened alley, Spike tried to slip his hands towards her neck, fooling with the ties that held her halter-top on her. She slammed his head back into the ground, pulling the shirt off herself and quickly unlatching his pants buckle. The leather slid down his calves slowly, and she gave it an extra tug, tempted to rip it off with her teeth for that extra erotic touch. But before she could even make the thought a reality, Spike was moving his hands up and down her body with the touch of an experienced professional, unsnapping her bra and flinging it over to the side of the alley. He undid the buttons on her pink leather pants, and pushed them down to the ground, removing the last shreds of Faith's clothing with them.  
  
Spike bit into Faith's lip, sucking on the blood that came up. He wasn't angry about missing his dinner anymore, instead totally captivated by the woman on top of him. He thrust himself into her, and she groaned in pleasure. He fiercely moved his mouth towards her flesh, sinking his fangs in. She screamed, but dug her nails into him, pushing herself closer to him, signaling for him to continue. Pain and pleasure were two of the few things she seemed to relate to, so that was what he would give her.  
  
He awoke a few hours later when it was still marginally dark out, his body intertwined with the glistening brunette's. Looking about the alleyway, Spike saw a few more bottles of beer scattered about than he had last noticed, and it struck him that some drunks had probably come to watch their show. Oh, bloody well, he thought, snickering to himself. Whatever got the little chicken nuggets' blood pulsing. He nudged Faith, and she stirred, lifting her head. "Nice round of slaying there," she noted almost immediately, eyeing his unclothed region pointedly.  
  
"Your knickers are over there," he pointed to a puddle, where Faith's clothing lay still. "Sorry they seem a bit soaking."  
  
"No matter, I'll do without," Faith shrugged. "Just going home to B, anyhow."  
  
"Faith, wait," Spike started, beginning to dress himself. "Don't tell Buffy."  
  
"That you and I kicked it until the cows came home?" She laughed, sliding her shirt over her head.  
  
"I was only thinking of you," Spike retorted. "You're supposed to slay me, not do the horizontal tango in your mouth with me. Lookin' at the situation, tell Buffy, she stakes me. Don't tell Buffy, we shag each other when we feel like it."  
  
"I could always go for some opportune slaying," she agreed. "And besides, I've got my sights set on Angel, anyhow."  
  
"Angel?" Spike questioned, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Whut are you doing with that duff?"  
  
"He's hot," Faith said simply, sliding her pants on. "And I'd think he's got a big dick. Besides, it would piss the hell out of B."  
  
"Sod off," Spike snapped, putting on the last piece of his clothing. "If you want to mess around with Angel, don't come crying to me when Mr. Nancy Boy Hair Gel drops you to get with his girl."  
  
"I wasn't planning on any Hollywood romance," Faith rolled her eyes, gesturing with her hand as if she couldn't understand why Spike would be in the least bit worried. "You'll still be my superman. Anybody who can give me a round like that in a darkened alley, hey, I'm 5-and-5 with."  
  
"Forget it," Spike told her, his desire to continue his relationship with her having died thanks to the mention of Angel. "Bad enough about Buffy, I'm not taking another of Angel's rejects."  
  
"B? You loved B?" Faith's mouth dropped open, and she attempted to stiffle a laugh. "You're kidding. You had it bad for B, didn't you?" She continued, realizing by Spike's expression he certainly wasn't joking. "Then I'm your reject, too. I don't have a problem with that." She shrugged, gliding over to Spike and sliding her hands down his body.  
  
"Got to be goin'," Spike told her, removing her hands. "But give me a ring sometime if you're feeling a bit rough and tumble."  
  
He headed out of the alley, and Faith laughed, picking up her clothing from the puddle and continue to walk down the street, knife in hand. She had a feeling she'd see Spike again, certainly if he had such a connection to B. And when she did, she knew it would be an interesting experience. 


End file.
